Twenty Years Dead
by scarycherrypie
Summary: It has been twenty years. Twenty long years since Dr. Horrible joined the Evil League of Evil. Twenty years since the world went to chaos. Twenty years since...she. She died. A new group has risen to stop the evil, using clones of the fallen as soldiers. And now, just as world seems in his reach, Dr. Horrible may be given a second chance to fix his mistakes. Or die trying.


Sometimes, Zoë dreamt.

The dreams were rarely ever fluid or made sense. Instead of a straight forward vision, she was visited by jumbled, horrific nightmares of the nonsensical sort. Tonight was no different. In her sleep, she saw blood. In a sea of dark, muddled red she waded, trying to cross to the far side of a room. Where was it coming from though? She looked left and right, trying to find the source to stop it up. But then, as she gazed down at her own, thin body, she realized it was coming from her. A painless wound had opened in her stomach and was gushing blood like a waterfall. She felt nothing except the warm splash on her thighs and legs. She put her hands over it to cover it up, but it blasted through the cracks in her fingers in an almost comical way.

This nonstop blood faucet was filling up the room; the same room that kept growing longer and longer. The exit was growing further and further away. Zoë slipped, crawling on hands and knees through the thick life soup. Body parts and pieces of machinery floated by, bobbing around like ice cubes in a cool drink. If she could only make it to the other side, she'd be safe. She tried to trudge on but her strength was failing her. Her arms shook and she kept slipping, letting the blood fill her nostrils in mouth. The urge to purge pulled hard at her stomach and she gagged, trying to cry for help. But no sound came, just a stranded gurgle. The room began to spin, swirling and contorting like a mad funhouse ride. She could hear laughter echoing around her, bouncing off the walls and spinning around her sinking head. The laughter of a mad man, she gathered as she sank further and further into the clotted blood, the mad man who must have done this.

Someone, she gathered right before all her strength fled and she died, truly horrible.

She always woke up sweating and crying. She gasped loudly, sitting straight up in bed and let out a strangled cry. She looked around her pitch black bedroom. The light under the door never flickered; no one had heard her and had come running to see what was wrong. Not that she could blame them for their indifference. Not only was it well past 3 AM, but this was not the first night terror Zoey had encountered and she knew full well it would not be her last. She tossed the blankets off her hot body and laid back down, attempting to cool off. The constant click of her fan was a small comfort to her. The monotony of it was reliable and she knew it would always be there for her to listen to and be soothed by.

There was no light in Zoë's room and there were no windows. This was because she lived far underground with her fellow members of GLLADD. GLLADD-good lads and ladies against dastardly deeds- had been founded twenty years ago, right after the Evil League of Evil (ELOV, for short) takeover. It was spurred, like all men and women of her time know, by the joining of Dr. Horrible joining the league after his brutal murder spree and destruction of Captain Hammer. GLLADD, based underneath the earth outside the city, had some of the best and most top notch scientific research on their side. It was how she and her fellow comrades had come to be, after all.

Zoë July Myers, a name given to her by the facility, was a clone. A copy of a fallen hero; a woman she'd never know the name of, whose face she'd only ever see in the mirror, and whose history would remain ever a mystery. This was for her own good, after all. Clones had been known to become confused and dangerous upon discovering the lives of their original counterparts. Her sole purpose in this dutiful life was to help take down the league and return the world to peace and balance. It was a noble cause, she thought, but she often pondered what life might be like if she did something else.

But what else could she do? Zoë didn't have any hobbies besides training and weaponry. She couldn't imagine a life outside her little hole; she'd never even been topside without a chaperone. Or, she turned her head towards her small wooden dresser, without her mask. In the inky black, her eyes had adjusted just enough to make out the outline of her uniform issued mask. She had decorated it of course, like almost all the other girls had at one point or another. The plain black mask looked somewhat like a gas mask, which protected her from numerous types of airborne poisons and toxins, was decorated with a hand painted white outline and a glittery red "Z" on the right cheek. She smiled at it. She wondered when she'd have the time to add a bow to the head strap. Shannon in room 6C had done so to hers and it was absolutely adorable.

There was something horrifically morbid about finding a mask she used to kill traitors in adorable.

The sound of footsteps coming up the hall made her sit up, suddenly alert. Her knife, strapped to the bottom of her bed, was only inches away if she needed it. She lay back down, half closing her eyes and letting her arm flop over the edge of the bed. The element of surprise needed to be on her side in case…

"Zoë?"

She opened her eyes and squinted in the hallway's warm, yellow light. Nathan stood there, holding a candle, still wearing his black sleep pants and sleep shirt.

"Nathan?" she inquired as he closed the door, engulfing them in nothing but candlelight. "What're you doing in here?"

"I'm on patrol tonight." He smiled in his coincidentally charming way. "The guard at the south post said he heard you scream. I figured I'd come check…just in case." He looked around. "No bogeymen…so I'm guessing another nightmare?"

"I'm fine." She assured him as he sat on the edge of her bed.

Nathan gave her a high brow look. He was a handsome, well groomed young man with a charming laugh and funny way about him. He was the only one of them who had been allowed to know who his donor was. He was the carbon copy of Captain Hammer, the washed up has been who visited the facility every now and again. In his forties, he was loud, pompous, and quite the pig. It was the running joke amongst the group that this was Nathan's future. He would just shudder and insist otherwise. Anyone who knew Nathan for longer than a few moments could see they were two totally different people, which made one wonder how accurate the cloning process was then.

"I think you should start back on the dream suppressors again." He brought up gently, setting the candle onto the nightstand. "I take them and they help a lot. Remember the weird nightmares I had about Hammer crying? They're all gone now. I think…."

"I don't want them. They make me feel funny." She said defensively and then hesitated. "Look I promise, I'm ok. It's just…I guess I'm just all worked up for the raid tomorrow."

"It's gonna go fine." Nathan laughed. "There aren't going to be any major ELOV members there. At MOST we'll have to deal with some sidekicks."

"So you don't think the rumors are true?"

"That Bad Horse and Dr Horrible will be there? Absolutely not. They have bigger fish to fry than to worry about some little bomb making facility in midtown." He laid a comforting hand on her thigh. "And if they do, we blow them to kingdom come. You should see the artillery they're giving us tomorrow. It's a masterpiece."

Zoë managed a laugh and nodded her head. Bad Horse, Doctor Horrible, and BH's terrifying "special friend" Mad Mare, would probably be dealing with some important international business. Mad Mare, a woman who'd been injected with some horrifying cocktail of adrenaline and horse DNA to turn her into a bride of Frankenstein, was known for her terrifying temper and swift brutality. Their sect had yet to have a run in with any of them, but another branch of GLLADD in Kansas had and they'd wiped out all but 3 of them. And from what she understood, the survivors wished they'd been taken out as well. She'd heard whispers of how insane Dr Horrible was. How he would gather the wounded and torture them to send a message to others. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

"You're right." She finally chuckled. "I guess I'm just being silly."

"No you have every right to be worried about. It's an appropriate thing to be worried about." He assured her. "But we have the best team in GLLADD. And, you know, I'll be there." He gave a mock cocky laugh.

"What a comfort, Captain." She gave his hand a squeeze.

Nathan smiled and narrowed his eyes.

"Watch your mouth, Red." He warned playfully.

There was a light clinging in the hall; probably someone on patrol looking around. Both pressed their own sets of lips tightly together and gave the other a funny look.

"I better go." Nathan mouthed, standing up slowly and snuffing out the flame with a short breath.

Zoë waved her goodbye to him as he slipped out into the hall. She heard him address whoever was wandering around; it sounded like someone who'd gotten out of bed without a bathroom pass in hand.

Zoë lay back in her bed, pulling the blankets back up around her. The soft smell of her fresh laundry filled her nose and she smiled, comforted. The aroma of calming lavender was her absolute favorite. It reminded her of the laundry room down the hall. Something about being in there, sitting up on a rumbling washing machine, was comforting. It was just the sort of comfort she needed tonight.


End file.
